Be Wary of Old People
by Lord Ironwolf
Summary: A friend wanted a story where the main character was an old cat lady with a caregiver, but still a kick butt adventurer. So I obliged. Evelyn behaves very inappropriately for an old woman, but she gets results.


They would have made an odd looking pair walking down the any of the streets of Darzon City, but as they were walking down one of the streets on the seedier side of town near dusk made them stick out much more so. That and the ever shifting swirl of a half a dozen cats that circled the woman like a small furry cloud. She was an old woman in her eighties who walked with an oak staff whose only ornamentation was a silver cap at each end held in one firm hand. She walked with it more as if it was part of her rather than if she needed it for support. Her plain brown and tan dress swirled about her legs has she confidently and surely walked down the street with her head held erect and scanning everything as she went. If it wasn't for the aged and wrinkled face and the long steel grey hair tied into a pony tail at the back of her head, she could have passed for much younger. She prided herself in having taken good care of herself as she got older, but there was just no denying the eventual effects of old age.

That is where her companion comes in. He was a young man in his mid-twenties and the first impression everyone got of him was 'fussy'. He was clean shaven and his neatly cropped, black hair was gently oiled and parted down the middle of his head so precisely that it might have been done with a carpenters guide. His clothes were plain, sturdy and appeared freshly washed and starched. They always appeared freshly washed and starched no matter how long the day had been or what the day included. He was in good shape, well-muscled but not overly so, and walked with an air of disdain for everything around him. Considering where he currently found himself, that is a perfectly true statement. What made him stand out even more was the large satchel he carried on his left shoulder that prominently displayed the fruit bowl, bread loaf, and heart of the Caregivers Guild. He was her caregiver and it was his duty to see to the infirmities of old age that she more often than not, simply refused to acknowledge. Duties that he was even now trying to dispatch.

"Really Madam, the damp air in this part of town is not good for you. You mustn't overdo it. We certainly don't want your arthritis to have flair up do we?"

"Hah!" she retorted, "You're just afraid that rubbing my swollen joints will give you a swollen joint of your own."

"Thank you Madam."

She gave him a sidelong glance and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, I had been trying to think of a way to lose weight and now I find myself with a complete loss of appetite."

She cackled gleefully, "That's what I like about you boy. You take a hit from an old lady and you're not afraid to punch back."

He maintained his air of disdain, but smiled inwardly. He had come to enjoy their back and forth banter. Her real name was Evelyn Fraught, but he only addressed her as 'Madam'. His name was Ryan Dissiter, an initiate of the Caregivers Guild. He knew of her reputation for sarcasm and inappropriate behavior for a woman her age before he took the job. She had eight Caregivers before him and none of them lasted a week. One had even quit the same day, before lunch. She was in one regard, a typical cranky old lady with a liking for cats and old age closing in. In another regard, she was an adventurer with over sixty years of experience and by her accounts, had saved the world over five times and does not take any crap from anyone. In her tales of her glory days she describes herself as a lioness in combat and having had an appetite for muscled young men that was truly astounding. At first he dismissed these as the ravings an old mind going senile. After travelling with her for over a year and a half he no longer has any doubts about their accuracy. Her mind was still sharp, she was still an adventurer, she could still hold her own in a fight, and still has an appetite for young men. Truth be told though, the journeys aren't as strenuous as they were, the fights are fewer and tired her more (but she won't admit that), and it's almost impossible to find a young man that wants to bed an eighty year old woman (much to her frustration). She was the living embodiment of the old saying about 'Be wary of old people in a profession where it is normal to die young'.

"Seriously though, isn't there an easier way to get the information we need? You know how this casual stroll through this delightful neighborhood is likely to end. It's not just the air that makes it unhealthy around here."

She made a rude noise and then said, "I know how it had better end. Easier ways, maybe. Quicker ways, no. I never was the sit around and wait type when I was young and now that I'm getting near the end of it all, I refuse to sit around anymore than I have to. There's still a lot of fun to be had before I go. I'm not traipsing around in this shit and muck because I get a kick out of it, it's just quicker this way." She looked off to her left, "This way here looks dark and creepy. Come on Ryan, let's go that way." She pointed to a smaller, darker street off to the left. As she moved to the side street she got a serious expression on her face and moved her left hand to under her right breast. "You know, when I got dressed this morning I thought I felt a lump right about here. You need to check it out when we get back to the inn."

"Madam, I am NOT falling for THAT one again."

As she entered the lane, her giggle was surprisingly girlish. He sighed dramatically and followed her and the furry cloud into the dark lane. They had not gone very far when a large man and four normal sized ones stepped out of the shadows and into what light there was to block their way. They were shabby, unwashed, armed with daggers and in short, typical of the low level thugs that could be found in any city all over the world. They were just what she was looking for. The large one spoke up, "This ain't a good place t'get lost grandma." He said with a nasty grin.

She gave him a nasty grin right back and said, "I ain't your fucking grandma and I ain't lost." She looked him up and down, taking in his broad shoulders, flat stomach and bulging muscles, and her expression changed from nasty to speculative. "Mmmm, my, my, aren't you a tasty looking morsel?" A delicate cough from behind her reminded her to get back to business. "Ok meat-mountain, I need some information and you're going to give it to me. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way." She looked down at his groin and then back up to his face with a inviting look while shifting her weight to one leg and placing her hand on her other hip. Fifty years ago that would have been incredibly seductive, but now it was just really creepy and disturbing. "You know, I don't think I would mind the 'hard' way, (she wiggled her eyebrows up and down at him) if you know what I mean."

Rickel had robbed old ladies before and this was not the way the story usually went. He was very wrong footed (Which Evelyn would later claim was her intent all along. She was not 'really' trying to seduce him) and took a deep breath and blew it out again to clear his mind. That worked surprisingly well for him as there was not usually much cluttering it up. "Look grandma, my name is not meat-mountain and if you and t'dandy ere give me all your money I'll be nice and let ya walk away. Give me any more shit an I'll have to get rough."

Evelyn was unfortunate enough to have caught the full aromatic blast when Rickel cleared his mind. She reached for a pouch at her waist, untied it and offered it up to him. "Would you like some candy? I have some very tasty mints here and your breath could really use a few. Please help yourself." She looked at the other four. "You boys can have some too." She didn't mention that they were also laced with a powerful aphrodisiac.

Instead of taking the candy he demanded, "Stop talking. Money. Now!" Rickel was annoyed at the implication that he had bad breath and was already off stride. Since Rickel didn't take any candy the other four didn't either, although two of them looked longingly at it.

She sighed and put the pouch back on her belt. It was getting harder and harder these days to get anyone to take the candy. The fact that there was five of them did not faze her in the slightest. Meanwhile, Ryan was squeezing his eyes shut tight trying to blot out the mental image of what would have happened if they did eat the candy. "I need to talk to MacFray. Don't bother saying 'MacFray who', I know damn well that he is the head of the Thieves Guild here and I have business with him. It would be smart, less painful, and maybe even slightly profitable for you if you just tell me where to find him."

Rickel folded his arms across his massive chest and tried to look imposing. "What's you want with him? Tell me and if I think it's worth it an you have enough coin, I might let ya know."

Her expression became dead serious and she looked directly up into his eyes, "He didn't pay me for a blowjob." An expression of horror slammed on to Rickel's face as he unfolded his arms and actually took a step backwards. Evelyn cackled and laughed so hard she had to lean on her staff for support. When she got herself under control, she gasped out, "Not really, but my business with him isn't any of your business." She grinned up at him, "Damn boy, you should have seen your face."

Rickel became enraged and balled his rock like hands into fists and took a step towards her. "If you think I won't beat an old lady you're wrong." And for emphases, he glared at her and added, "Dead wrong." In that instant the small furry cloud became a small furry puffed out storm cloud where claws and teeth replaced lightning and feral hisses replaced thunder. He didn't take a second step.

Still leaning on her staff, she looked down fondly at them. "They're so cute when they get all protective like that. Now, now babies," she cooed to them, "the stinky man with bad breath is not going to hurt mommy. You sweeties just stay out of the way."

Rickel sneered, "What makes you so sure of that?"

Faster than it would have been believed possible, the bottom end of the staff shot upward in an arc that connected sharply and squarely into Rickel's groin. As he doubled over in pain, the staff was spun and the top part of it impacted with the back of his now bowed head. He went face down into the refuse in the street with a resounding thud and had been there for only about a second when a leather boot came down on the back of his neck and the butt of the staff began to grind painfully into his right temple. "Do you have any other stupid fucking questions?"

The four remaining gang members stood still with shock but quickly recovered and advanced to come to the aid of their leader. Evelyn caught Ryan's eye and twitched her head in their direction. "Right away Madam." Despite being behind Evelyn when she brought Rickel down, he still managed to intercept them before they reached her.

Meanwhile on the floor of the street, "You dried up old bitch! When they're done with him you'll have to move that damn stick and then I'll break every brittle bone in your whole fucking body! I'll beat you to AARRRCH!" One of the cats had stalked over and bit him on the nose. He was about to start in to his tirade again when he suddenly, chillingly, noticed how quite the street was.

Evelyn took her eyes off Rickel and glanced to where the four thugs had been, not out of any real concern, but to just confirm what she expected to see. And she saw what she expected, four dead thugs, each with a slit in their throats where the artery was located and Ryan standing there polishing a scalpel with no more apparent concern that if he had just lanced a boil. Blood had sprayed everywhere from the four men but Ryan did not have a drop on him. Not for the first time she wondered how he did that. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me where you learned to use a scalpel like that? That's not standard Caregiver training." She had asked that question before and got the answer she had always got before. To be fair, what she really wanted to know was not how he got so good with his scalpels, but how he never got a drop of blood on him when he slit throats like that. She was sure the two were connected.

"No Madam, I will not." She shrugged it off. If there was one thing she learned it was that if someone had a violent skill or talent and didn't want to talk about how they got it, you didn't pester them about it. Usually if they gave in and told you it was something you were actually happier not knowing. For his part, that was information he felt she simply did not need to know. He really was an initiate of the Caregivers guild. Before that though, he was also an initiate of the Assassins Guild. A difference of opinion over an assignment led to him taking an early, unannounced and unapproved retirement. Death was the usual way to retire from the Guild so he changed his looks, his persona, and joined the Caregivers Guild figuring that, who would look for a killer amid those dedicated to preserving life? It was the fact that Evelyn was almost constantly on the move made the arrangement with her nearly perfect. The only real drawback was that she was constantly trying to get him to bed her and that was disturbing to say the least. But learned early not to get drunk around her or accept any candy from her so he was safe in that regard.

She looked down at Rickel again, "So, are you going to tell me where to find MacFray or do I lean hard on my staff, crush your empty skull, and start over on another street?" He was thinking fast (for him) about his chances for survival by trying to fight (slim to none) and his chances for survival if MacFray ever found out he gave up information on how to find him (slim to none) when a pouch that tinkled with coins dropped on the street in front of his face.

Ryan squatted down to speak to him, "And now we have the old saying about honey and vinegar. What kind of fly will you be?" Rickel had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. What he did understand was that one of them was going to kill him if he didn't talk and the other one was offering him money if he did. That actually simplified things quite a bit. He decided to take the money.

"Go to the Inn called the Green Unicorn. Ask the barkeep for Danny and say you want to buy an orange cat. You'll have to talk to several people before MacFray will decide to talk to you so you might as well get a room. I did my part, now let me up and let me take the money so I can start running." The boot came off his neck, the staff came off his head and the cats stopped pawing at him. He grabbed the pouch and bolted down the street and into the gloom.

Evelyn looked askance at Ryan, "That was unusually generous of you. Are you feeling ok? Maybe I should give you one of your own concoctions to make you sleep and tuck you in tonight?"

He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "No need Madam. First of all I shudder to think of what would happen to me if I were unconscious in bed, unable to wake up, and you were nearby, umm, 'watching' over me. Secondly, it was not generous at all. That bag was filled with coppers."

Evelyn giggled, "Damn boy, he's going to be pissed when he opens that bag up."

He allowed himself a small smile, "I should certainly hope so Madam. So, shall we head over to the Green Unicorn and ask for a cat?"

"No, let's head back to the Sleepy Swan and take the measure of the Unicorn by daylight." They turned and left the blood splashed lane strewn with corpses and headed back to the better side of town. In her younger days she would have gone straight over to the Green Unicorn and started the contact process. As old age crept forward, she discovered she was more reluctant to give up the creature comforts of nice inns. Any place that you were looking for the head of the Thieves Guild in was likely to be lacking in fine arrangements. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but getting a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed was a lot more important to her than it used to be.

As they walked along Ryan ventured, "Madam, if you don't mind my asking, why you still do this? You have wealth that would be the envy of many if they only knew of it. There are plenty of other adventures that can take up the task of saving the world when the need arises. [He very carefully did not say 'younger' adventurers]I would think that at this time in your life you might want to relax a bit and enjoy the rewards of a successful life."

She walked along in silence for a while and when she spoke she was unusually somber, "I have seen all kinds of death during my years. Death in battle, by accident, by stupidity, by poison, by disease, by bad luck, by heart attack while having sex." She looked at him and was for once was completely serious when mentioning sex, "That last one upsets me more than I generally like to let people know. It's also kind of awkward to explain to the family. But I will tell you there is one kind of death the just scares the shit out of me, death by sitting in a chair in a room all alone just waiting for it to happen. I don't have a death wish, far from it actually, and I know I may die on this quest. But when the specter of Death finally comes for me he won't find me waiting in a chair asking him what took him so long. Instead I'll smack him in the crotch with my staff and he can drag me off kicking, cursing and screaming."

He nodded to that. Being an expert on the many forms of death he could appreciate her point of view. Secretly, he wondered exactly which one would be doing the kicking, cursing and screaming, her or Death.

She took a deep breath and some of her normal mischief crept back in, "So Ryan, if I were to take a fatal wound on this trip, would you give me a farewell kiss?"

He pondered for a moment and said, "Certainty Madam, as long as you don't mind the clenched teeth."

"Clenched teeth?"

"Madam, I know you well enough by now to know that even with your dying breath, you would try to slip me the tongue."

She put on a very theatrical pout, "Aww, don't you want me to die happy?"

"Madam, the only problem with you dying happy is me having to live on with a memory that I doubt there is enough brandy on the continent to wash out." He gave an equally theatrical shiver of horror.

She giggled again, "You do know me pretty well." She slid closer to him and suggestively rubbed her shoulder against his while tilting her head toward him and batted her eyes at him. "But not as well as you could." She resumed her normal place before he could make a reply or leap to the side of the street, which he was about to do. "Admit it, if I were thirty,,,"

"Fifty."

",,,years younger you'd be begging for my tongue and not just on your lips."

"Yes Madam, we've had this conversation before" (much too frequently for his peace of mind) "and since you're not, I'm not."

They travelled on for a while in compatible silence; the only sound between them was the occasional mew of one of the cats and the tap of her staff on the stones of the street. As they approached the inn, he did have one more thing he wanted to talk about. "If you don't mind me asking Madam, Just what is the goal of this quest you're on? We started on this only couple of months after I joined up with you and to be honest, I don't know if we're making progress or not. You know I'll follow where ever you lead but it would be nice to know at least a little about what lies ahead."

For the second time that evening she became uncharacteristically somber, "All the quests and missions I've done in my life have always been for some cause or someone else. I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy the hell out of it while it was happening, or profit handsomely by it, but it was always for someone else. This may be my last quest, so I decided that it would be something just for me. We're after a magic artifact called the Chalice of Gwent. With it, some extraordinary potions are supposed to be able to be brewed."

"Interesting, what sort of potion are you hoping to make?"

She turned and looked him directly in the eyes with a very frank and speculative expression, "One that will make me fifty years younger."


End file.
